No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
by MissDoctorDonna
Summary: Ezra and Buck go to Eagle Bend to seek retribution against Dan Martinson, but come back riding double. What happened and why? Eight in my Brothers Series.


**Set after Looking Behind the Pain. Standard disclaimers: Don't own, don't profit, don't sue. No slash. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to post reviews on this series of stories. I do so enjoy the warm fuzziness of a fellow fan of the boys made happy. This one jumps around a bit I'm afraid and just didn't seem to want to end. It isn't my best work, but I'm throwing it online anyway in case someone wants to read it. **

Buck tightened his hold on the man sitting in front of him on Gray, murmuring reassurances even though he knew that the man was insensate and likely to remain so. Worry gnawed at him as he encouraged his horse into a slightly faster pace, deeming it more prudent to get home faster despite the jostling of his passenger. The ladies' man had been surprised but pleased when Ezra had asked Chris if he could take Buck with him. Normally the wily southerner preferred to take his trips on his own and never requested back up. Now he was wishing that the gambler had asked Nathan to come with him. Looking down at the chalk white, sweating face of his friend, he whispered, "You just hold on now, Ez. We'll be home soon and Nate'll fix ya right up."

For his part, Ezra Standish remained in the dark bliss of oblivion, hiding from his agony.

The black clad Chris Larabee glanced up from his whittling and smirked as he watched the uncharacteristic pacing of Vin Tanner. They'd started the day in companionable silence, sitting outside to await Inez's opening of the Saloon. Once they'd eaten, they took their customary seats outside on the porch, watching side by side as the town stirred to life. As cold as it was, at least the wind had died down which made it quite pleasant sitting in the winter sun. They'd not long been there when Chris took his latest project and knife from his duster pocket, just as Vin started to fidget in his seat. An hour later and Chris' bear was nearly finished, along with his patience with Vin's fretting.

"They never said what time today they'd be back, Vin," murmured Chris, thoughtfully turning the carving around in his hands. "And you know how hard it is to get Ez up on a cold morning."

Startled out of his contemplation of the horizon between Four Corners and Eagle Bend, Vin looked down at his older brother. Snorting, he threw himself back into his chair and crossed his arms defensively, saying, "Iffun yer'd ever bin lucky 'nough ta spend time in that bed o' his, yer'd know why it's sa hard ta rouse 'im."

Peering at the tracker from the corner of his eye, Chris was surprised at the thickness of Vin's accent. It only became so apparent when the man was sick, tired, injured or worried. Since he'd personally been rubbing the stinky goo into Vin's back, as per Ezra's instructions, he knew he wasn't hurting. Seeing the bright blue eyes staring back at him, he didn't think the Texan looked ill or tired, which left worried. Damn, scruffy, skinny assed Texan must have one of his feelings. Clenching his hands around the carving, Chris turned to look towards Eagle Bend too.

Nathan and Josiah chose that moment to step up onto the porch, having just gotten back into town from visiting the Seminole village. Seeing their friends gazing down the street, they both looked that way too but saw nothing of note.

Leaning against the post, Nathan asked, "Whatcha all lookin' at?"

Whipping around at the sudden voice, Chris grimaced as he eased his hand away from his gun, before chuckling darkly when he saw Vin doing the same thing.

"Damn, Nate! Whistle or something before ya sneak up on a man," growled Vin, his cheeks colouring a little in embarrassment at being caught out, so intent on the horizon that he missed the approach of the two men. Tugging his hat brim lower to hide his eyes, he swooped down to pick up Chris's dropped carving.

Moving over to the window, he placed it on the sill to await its new owner as had become tradition. Every child in town scanned the window sills of the saloon and jail for any new offerings and took them on a first come, first served basis. They were then traded between those who ended up with two of the same animal, or sometimes given to children who lived on outlying farms and didn't get to town often. Rubbing his fingers over the little animal, Vin smiled softly as he thought of the hawk that he had hidden in his treasure box in his wagon and the little coyote figure that Ezra had on his dresser upstairs, next to his fancy silver tray. He was pretty sure he'd seen a bear just like this one holding down a pile of papers on Josiah's table the last time he'd been there to return a book for Ezra. Nate had a beaver sitting amongst his herb jars. Grinning, he wondered what animals Buck and JD had pocketed for themselves. Buck should have a jackrabbit, whilst the kid should have a mockingbird. Damn feisty little birds that never shut up or know when to back down. Yup, the kid was definitely a mockingbird.

Eyebrows raised at the reception he and the healer had received from the normally unflappable men, Josiah rumbled, "Something troubling you, brothers?"

"Vin's worried about Ezra and Buck," offered Chris when Vin remained tight-lipped and focussed on the bear.

Waving a hand dismissively, Nathan replied haughtily, "That southern cuss is probably still sleeping off a night of cheating others from their hard-earned money and Buck's probably still cuddled up to a woman. It's still early, Vin."

Spinning around, Vin marched over and glared up at Nathan, poking him in the chest hard as he growled, "Ez. Don't. Cheat! He don't need ta cheat 'cos he's damned good at what he does. 'N Buck weren't in the mood for female company, as ya know full well. Ya got to stop spouting all ya sant… sacr…secri…"

"Sanctimonious," supplied Chris helpfully, enjoying seeing his younger brother lose his infamous cool with the oft times self-righteous healer. He looked over at Josiah to see how the big preacher was taking this assault on his friend and was relieved to see an amused smirk on the stubbled face. It was too early in the day to be taking on Sanchez in protective Mama bear mode.

Pointing back at Chris vigorously, Vin continued, "That! What he said! Ya got to stop spouting all ya sanc-tee-moan-ee-ous crap about Ez. Ya don't see it, but ya hurt him when ya go off at him about things like that. He's a good man, Nathan, but you just won't look past him being white and southern. I'm white and southern, why don't ya treat me like crap too? I's bin sa tired, poor and hungry that I's stole offa folk in the past. Gonna call me a thief too? I's tricked bounties into surrendering, gonna call me a cheat?"

Stunned, Nathan gaped at the animated Texan who had thrust his face within inches of his own. When the tirade ended, he slowly moved his mouth but nothing came out. Helplessly, he turned his head to look at Josiah for some sort of guidance as to what had just occurred.

A deep rumbling chuckle burst from Josiah as he moved to stand behind Vin, placing a hand on the younger man's heaving chest to pull him close to his own broad chest and began rubbing soothing circles. Bending forward, he said in a low voice, "Calm down, brother. We're all friends here."

Feeling the vibrations through his back, Vin unconsciously relaxed a little but continued to glare at Nathan, growling, "Iffun we's all friends, why does he go out o' his way to make one of his friends feel lower than a snake's belly? Ez ain't never said anything bad about Nathan. In fact he talks him up to folks, tellin' 'em how good a healer he is and all. Not a one of us steps in ta defend Ez either. Well, that's all over. I ain't gonna listen ta ya bad mouth him no more, Nate. That's all the warning ya gettin'."

On the trail to Four Corners, two weary horses were being pushed to reach home by a desperately worried Buck. Chaucer had been moving alongside to rub his muzzle on Ezra's leg throughout the journey, but now hung back with his head down, despondently following the lead rope. Releasing one arm from around the sturdy gambler, the ladies' man brushed the hair off Ezra's forehead. A slow grin bloomed on his face as the gambler frowned and turned his face into Buck's shoulder at the touch; any movement was better than being still as death. The big man's grin softened to a fond smile as he once again concentrated on guiding Gray home, remembering that first morning on the trail. He'd slept first the night before, leaving the nocturnal gambler to take the first watch. When it came time to be woken, instead of the slap to the shoulder usually employed by the others, he'd awoken to gentle fingers through his hair and the soft southern drawl of his friend. Since his nerves weren't quite the same since the recent happenings, he was grateful for the softer approach.

Stepping back, Nathan put a hand up to absent-mindedly rub the sore spot on his chest where Vin had been poking him. A mixture of hurt and anger blended on his face, to be replaced by chagrin as he realised the validity of the tracker's words. Looking over the faces of his three friends, men who he felt kinship with, he replied slowly, "I… I don't know why I treat Ezra different to you, Vin. I guess it's just a first impressions last thing. First time I saw you, you were saving my life. First time I met Ez, he'd just cheated a saloon full of folk and refused to ride with ya'll 'cos you was riding with a black man. Riding with me. I just knew you were a good man and he wasn't."

"Hell, that was all a coon's age ago, Nathan. None of us knew the first thing 'bout each other back then. 'Sides, ya don't know that Ez refused ta ride with us 'cos of ya skin, you just jumped ta that conclusion. I asked him 'bout it once and he said that he didn't want to ride with ya, 'cos he could see that ya didn't like him and he didn't trust ya not ta shoot him in the back just 'cos he was from the South. I can tell ya fer sure that ole Ez ain't got a pre… pred…"

Stammering to a stop, Vin peered around Josiah's shoulder to Chris for help.

"Prejudiced," obliged the gunslinger, trying to hide his smirk as he stood and came to stand beside Vin and Josiah.

"Prejudiced bone in his body. Mainly, 'cos he don't feel that anyone's worse'n him," continued Vin, clasping Josiah's forearm with both hands as he leaned toward Nathan earnestly. "Thanks ta Maude dumping him on everyone and anyone, he's lived with all sorts o' folk both before and after the war. Ya don't know what's happened in his life and ya ain't never taken the time to get ta know him a'tall. Bet ya didn't know that he's been on the receiving end of a coupla black folks' anger more'n once, takin' beatin's meant for ex-masters long dead and that he saw the same look in their eyes as he saw in yer eyes in the saloon. 'Reckons he can see the mask of hate drop over a person's face as soon as they hear him talk. Happens with white Yankees alla time too."

Leaning back against the preacher, Vin sighed wearily and continued quietly, "He'll probably kill me for telling all ya'll this, but… Hell, he was practically teat reared by a black woman, 'cos Maude never bonded with him like a ma should. She was real sickly after his birth 'pparently. Ezra loved Bess better'n his own mama for years, 'fore his Daddy's family forced him off the plantation 'cos of his gambling and such. Maude had to take little Ez away from Bess. She belonged to his Daddy's kin and they forced Maude and his Daddy ta leave the plantation with nothing but their clothes, a few trinkets and Ez. The Standish's never approved of his Daddy, ole Maude or Ez. He told me they thought Maude was a gold digger, only after the family money, but that his Daddy was the only man who Maude ever truly loved. Maude and Patrick turned to conning and gambling ta support themselves after being cutoff. Then when Patrick was killed… well, all ya'll know what happened then."

Josiah and Chris exchanged sidelong looks of pain at hearing the circumstances of Ezra's childhood. Josiah unconsciously tightened his hold on Vin, wishing he could hug Ezra as well. Nathan was starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable, knowing that he'd allowed his own experiences to colour how he viewed his southern friend. He'd always prided himself on being a fair and just man, but he was beginning to see that his treatment of Ezra was anything but fair. Swallowing harshly, he found it hard to make eye contact with Vin or the others.

Slouching against Josiah, as though the man were a tree or wall, Vin stuck his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "Trust me, Nathan. Ezra ain't once looked at ya with hate 'cos o' yer skin. Most of the folks who were kind ta him when he was jist a button were black. Even though he loves the South, he doesn't think any man has the right ta own another. He sure as hell don't think they got the right to beat on 'em. He respects and likes ya, even though yer always so godawful mean ta him. He'll never bring any of this up, 'cos he thinks he deserves it… that yer a better man than him. But I'm telling ya different. I won't be standing fer it no more. Ya ain't got something kind ta say, then ya best be keeping ya mouth shut, or I'll shut it fer ya!"

Nathan was about to respond when they all turned at a shout from JD. The boy was standing on the porch of the jail, pointing out of town and shouting, "They're back! Looks like Ezra's hurt too!"

Finally arriving on the outskirts of town, Buck heard the call raised by JD and blessed the boy for bringing help faster. His arms and back were aching fiercely from carrying the dead weight of the gambler for so long, but he couldn't drop his friend now. Watching as first Vin, then Chris, Josiah and Nathan came running, he plodded forward on his weary horse. Coming to a stop by the stairs at the side of the livery, he waited for his friends to reach him.

Josiah felt the shudder that went through Vin seconds before the tracker tore out of his grasp and started to sprint towards the end of the street. Surprised, he watched as Chris abandoned any pretense of dignity and ran after him. Starting to jog after them, he watched as Nathan outstripped him and soon closed in on the tracker, both of them arriving at Buck's side at the same time.

"Buck! What happened? Is he shot? Were ya ambushed? I don't see no blood. Did Dan Martinson do this? Is he dead? Whoever did it better be dead, Bucklin."

Mouth falling open at the uncharacteristic burst of questions from the quiet Texan, Buck could only shake his head mutely. Then Josiah was shouldering his way through, elbowing Nathan away as the healer was trying to open Ezra's coat and see if he could find the cause of the man's hurt. Holding up his arms, Josiah gathered the southerner close as if he weighed no more than a child and started to carry him up the stairs, saying, "Let's get him in out of the cold and you can examine him, Nate. Chris, Vin, you might want to give Buck a hand off that horse before he falls off."

Groaning as he dismounted, Buck was thankful for the two sets of hands that held him up as his knees buckled. Finding himself turned swiftly and hurriedly headed up the stairs by two very anxious men, he shouted his thanks to JD over his shoulder as the boy led Gray and Chaucer into the stables for some well deserved care.

Inside the clinic, Ezra had already had his coats and shirts removed by the time Buck, Vin and Ezra burst in. Dropping Buck's arm and hurrying to his brother's side, Vin turned plaintive blue eyes on the healer, begging for answers without need of words. Meanwhile, Chris guided his old friend over to the second bed and lowered him carefully down onto it before turning his own hawk like gaze onto Nathan.

Discovering nothing unusual on Ezra's torso, Nathan was running long, skillful fingers over his friend's scalp in search of a head wound. Finding nothing unusual there either, apart from the old indentation from a long ago injury, he looked to Buck for an explanation.

Sighing, Buck shrugged his painfully sore shoulders and said, "I dunno what the hell happened. The ride over was quiet and he seemed okay. Focussed on Martinson and still kinda pissed in that quiet Ezra way of his, but not sick. He just keeled over on the way home without so much as a whimper."

They'd spent the ride over to Eagle Bend alternating between comfortable silences and exchanges of personal history, as well as remembrances of the war. There'd also been a slightly awkward exchange regarding Buck's recent lack of sexual prowess, but Ezra had hastily reassured him that an emotional upheaval such as he'd recently suffered could cause such short lapses, emphasising the short. By the time they'd reached Eagle Bend, Buck had regained the twinkle in his eye and was making the odd ribald comment about visiting Miss Adelaide that night. Ezra had chuckled, but known that Buck wouldn't be seeking out female company on this trip.

Realising that he'd slipped off into his memories, Buck looked back up at his expectant friends and continued related his version of the trip.

"We went to the Blue Moon Saloon and Ez worked his way into a game. I was supposed to stay at the bar and keep an eye on the crowd to start with. Wasn't long before that snake, Dan, came in and horned in on the game like he was king of the world. That's when Ez really started to play. Ya all know what Ez is like when he's playing against a cheat. He's all smiley and charming on the outside, but ya just know he's cold and angry on the inside. The man just can't stand to see his beloved game 'besmirched by amateurs', said Buck, smiling sadly as he mimicked the southerner's accent as he quoted him.

Vin nodded and moved to sit on the bed behind Ezra, pulling his boots and coat off before hanging his mare's leg over the bedpost. Clambering around to get settled with his back against the bedhead, he held his arms out to Josiah, who was currently holding Ezra up so Nathan could get the gambler's pants off. Taking the shivering longjohn clad body of his brother, Vin pulled him back against his chest and made sure that Ezra's head was comfortably nestled against his shoulder and neck. Josiah covered them both over with a blanket, pausing to run his hand over first Ezra's tousled auburn hair, then Vin's windswept curls.

Nathan could do no more without knowing what ailed the man, there were no bullet holes to sew up and no teas he could administer to an unconscious man. Huffing impatiently, the healer retreated to his shelves of curatives and waited for any relevant information. At least Ez looked comfortable now, melted against the tracker as though seeking to absorb all the body heat being offered.

Pleased that his presence seemed to be comforting Ezra, Vin tightened his embrace after making sure that the gambler was completely covered by the blanket, going so far as to tuck it down between Ezra's shoulders and his own chest. Vin suspected that he may know what was going on with the gambler, remembering something mentioned briefly in one of their night-time confessions, and aimed to provide the comfort of knowing someone was near. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of Nathan and the knowing smiles of Josiah and Chris, he hugged his brother to him and listened carefully to Buck's story.

Sadly watching Vin, Buck added, "Course he was also mad as hell about Martinson taking advantage of Vin and old Mrs Martinson. He had a whole world of ugly lined up for that man..."

Smiling forlornly at JD as he entered the clinic and came to sit on the other side to Chris, Buck tried to shrug out of his overcoat. Seeing his difficulty, Chris set about making his old friend more comfortable by helping him out of his coats and then sitting beside him. Buck promptly leaned against the slight shoulder of the gunslinger, patted JD's knee and took a deep breath.

"Once he had Martinson well and truly hooked, I was supposed to go out to the Martinson place with a wagon that Ez had hired and get Mrs Martinson and her geegaws. Once she was safe in town, I was to give Ez the high sign so he knew it was safe to clean out Martinson and stop letting him win hands to keep him interested. It all went off without a hitch. Miriam Martinson didn't have much left that her son hadn't stole and sold, so we had her packed up and stowed away in the hotel in no time. I went back to the Blue Moon and tipped my hat. Ez looked a bit pale, but his eyes lit up when he got the sign that he could start playing for real. Truth be told, I think he was looking forward to playing like he used to before meeting us," rambled Buck, still trying to pin down what had caused Ezra's illness.

***The night before in Eagle Bend***

Ezra Standish was a happy man. Sitting comfortably in the Blue Moon Saloon in Eagle Bend, he gazed placidly over at the man opposite him who was sweating profusely and looking extremely frustrated. Face set in a neutral expression of polite gentility, the gambler's soul howled with the victory of the first stage of his triumph over his enemy. As tranquil as he appeared to others, internally he was a seething mass of fury and vengeance, focused solely on the downfall of the man sitting across the table from him. His prey was a man who had taken advantage of the gentle younger man whom Ezra had chosen as his brother, causing him harm and embarrassment. The man opposite him was a bully, arrogant in his erroneous belief of self-importance and if there was one thing that the southerner detested above all others, it was a bully. Having been on the receiving end of the ill-treatment of those who flaunted their strength and power over those smaller, weaker or disenfranchised, Ezra empathized strongly with said people. That experience, along with his innate sense of fair play and kindness, meant Ezra showed no mercy to those he caught bullying now. No, the southerner intended to systematically destroy Dan Martinson for his crimes against Vin and he always succeeded once his mind was set on something.

Hitching his elbow more securely on the bar top, Buck fixed his eyes on the group playing poker with his friend, confident that it didn't set him apart as everyone was watching. Pretending nonchalance as he scanned the crowd that had gathered to watch the fancy dressed stranger annihilate the almost universally disliked Dan Martinson at poker, Buck grinned behind his beer. Even the town's sheriff was settled at a corner table in the bar to witness the show, having been given a heads up by the crafty southerner as soon as the pair had ridden into town that morning. The last thing Ezra wanted was for his plan to backfire and land him and his loyal friend in the pokey for the night.

Without moving his eyes, the gambler tracked the occupants of the room, knowing that Buck would be slouched against the bar again watching his back. He'd specifically requested the ladies' man as backup, knowing that his confidence had been shaken by Chris' recent attack and that this would help rebuild it. Also, a change of scenery was always advantageous when trying to overcome a bout of melancholia. Despite the two old friends having made their peace, Buck's low mood had persisted and he'd taken refuge in the quiet company of Ezra and Vin, whilst Chris exiled himself in his room to recover from his hangover and shame. Josiah had taken over the task of diverting a bewildered and hurt JD, when Buck had started to avoid the enthusiastic boy's boisterous company.

Dan Martinson scowled furiously at the cards in his hand and then the pile of money in front of the gambler opposite him. If it weren't for the fact that the piles in front of the other three players at the table were only marginally smaller, he'd have thought the dandy was cheating. But if he were cheating, all the money would have gone his way, not the way of the others. Unaccustomed to being outplayed, he sucked on the teeth he had left and assessed his options. He could keep playing and lose all his money, or he could bow out with the small amount he had left and then go about recouping his money in a less forthright manner. Flicking his gaze up to the suave, good-looking gambler's Remington and the suspicious bulge under his arm, then over to his tall, handsome and obviously well-armed friend leaning on the bar, he quickly ruled out the third option.

Squinting at his cards once more, he threw them down on the table in disgust. If he left now, he'd have enough money left for a bottle of redeye and a room for the night. "That's it for me! I'm done handing over my money to you fellas."

"Come now, my good fellow, surely your luck must change soon," coaxed Ezra, smiling his crocodile smile at his departing prey. Truth be told, he would be more than happy to see this night end. His peripheral vision was slightly impaired in his right eye and the smells of the cheap booze, cheaper cigars and unwashed bodies pressed close around the table were making him bilious. Swallowing delicately, he realised that he was getting one of his episodes. They'd become rarer since his injury had first been inflicted but they were by no means cured.

"Nah, I'm just gonna get me a bottle and go, after I make a stop out back," mumbled Dan, heading for the door leading out to the privy.

"Well then gentlemen, I believe I shall turn in also," announced Ezra, gathering up his considerable winnings, he nodded to the other two players who grinned back in delight at the small windfalls in front them. They were small time ranchers, who'd agreed to sit at the table when approached on the sly by the gambler that morning and told of the plan. Having lost considerable amounts of money to Dan Martinson in the past, before they'd learned to steer clear of the ruthless man, they were eager to help in his downfall. Both men would have done it for the satisfaction only, but the money in front of them could mean the difference between surviving the winter or not. Sauntering over to stand next to Buck, Ezra tapped his fingers lightly on the bar, signalling the barkeep for a glass of good bourbon. Leaning in towards the balding man when he approached, he whispered something in his ear and nudged a gold coin towards him with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

Tapping the side of his nose, the barkeep swiftly pocketed the coin and turned back to serve Dan, who'd just bellied up to the bar. Giving him the bottle of rotgut that he'd asked for, the barkeep took the money and watched as Dan stalked from the bar. Coming back to the gambler, he murmured, "Just enough to knock him out for the rest of the night and most of tomorrow, Mr Standish, just like ya said."

"Excellent, Mr Barlow, that will give us enough time to put the lovely Mrs Martinson on the stage in the morning and to leave this delightful town before he awakes," replied the gambler with a sly wink. Turning to Buck, he held his shot glass up and said, "To a job well done, my friend."

***Present day in the clinic***

"Ez cleaned out ole Dan, making sure that the other fellas at the table won almost as much as he did to avoid any accusations. Dan left to get drunk on the bottle of redeye that the barkeep had doctored with laudanum, as per Ez's earlier instructions. Ez and I had another couple of shots and then we went to bed too. He didn't seem sick or nothing. The next morning, he was up early though and looked kinda pale and sweaty, but said he was fine when I asked," continued Buck, rolling his eyes at the southerner's standard response to any queries about his health. The man could have lost both legs and most of his right arm and he's still say he was fine.

Smiling slightly, Vin cuddled Ezra closer as the gambler shifted so he was lying on his side, facing away from the others. The smile broadened when he felt his arm being hugged and Ezra rubbed his stubbled cheek against the tracker's shoulder. It felt good to be able to offer back some of the comfort Ez had given so freely to him. With a deep sigh, Ezra settled again.

The other men all shared Buck's look of fond exasperation at the way the gambler always downplayed his injuries and illnesses, although Vin's look was more sheepish as it was a trait he shared with his brother.

"We had a quick breakfast.."

Interrupting quickly, Nathan asked, "Did the stubborn cuss eat anything?"

Leaning more heavily on Chris, Buck yawned widely and replied, "'Bout the same as usual. Ya know he don't eat enough to keep a cat alive in the mornings. Anyway, we had breakfast and then went over to the hotel to collect the widow Martinson. The stage was actually on time for once, so we loaded her and her few bags on and sent her on her way. Ez don't know it, but I saw him slip a wad of cash to Mrs Martinson just as she left. Told her to hide it in her boots as soon as she could without drawing attention to herself. Called it 'start over money'. Then he backed away and shut the door and the stage took off with that poor woman leaning out the window crying and waving her hankie at us. Must have given her his poker winnings from the night before and then some to make up a wad that size."

No-one showed a huge amount of surprise at this act of generosity, except the healer and even Nathan just raised an eyebrow.

"We collected our stuff and horses and rode out, with every town person we saw tipping their hats and smiling at us. Ain't never seen so many happy folk. 'Course Ez warned the sheriff that Martinson would be waking up late, with what he thought was a hangover. Once he discovered that his Ma was gone and taken everything left of value with her, he'd be likely to get ornery and go looking for her," said Buck, his voice deep and rumbling with the need for sleep. Stopping for moment to yawn so widely that Nathan was slightly fearful that his jaw would dislocate, Buck abruptly nodded off and let his head slip down with a thud onto Chris' black clad shoulder.

Snorting in humour at the abrupt departure to the land of nod, Chris slowly manoeuvred the bigger man down onto the bed, lifting the long legs up after removing his boots and covering his friend over with a blanket. Knowing that his friend was out for the count, Chris turned to the others, shrugged and said, "Guess we wait until one of them wakes up for the rest."

"Not much else to tell," whispered a scratchy, pale imitation of their gambler's usual dulcet drawl.

"EZRA!"

Everyone but Buck cried out the gambler's name, making him cringe and try to burrow into the tracker, who immediately started to rub his brother's back and whisper apologies whilst glaring at the others. Buck has sat up looking bewildered, reaching for his gun. But seeing everyone clustered around the gambler's bed, he lay and watched to see what he'd missed.

"How long have you been awake for, you damn sneaky weasel," demanded Nathan hotly, beginning to think this whole affair was a con. One look at Vin had the healer backing up and bumping into JD. Looking around at the others, he quickly decided to amend his approach but before he could apologise, the gambler spoke.

Cracking open one emerald-green, bloodshot eye cautiously, Ezra had seen the look of fury on Nathan's face and sighed. He could never do anything right according the self-righteous ex-slave, not even awake in incredibly pain apparently. Rolling over onto his back cautiously, with more than a little help from Vin, he lay for a moment and panted softly through the pain with his eyes tightly shut. Through the agony, he heard the soft drawl of his brother.

"Is it one o' yer sick headaches, pard?"

Slightly startled for a moment that the tracker knew about his headaches, Ezra stiffened before relaxing again as he remembered mentioning them to the tracker one night. Putting a trembling hand on the strong forearm holding him, he gave it a squeeze.

"Want fer me ta tell 'em bout it?"

Another squeeze was all Ezra could manage before his limited strength left him and he was forced to lay limply against the Texan.

Looking up into four concerned faces and one sceptical one, Vin explained, "Ez told me that he was wounded bad once, long time back, and since then he gets these sick headaches. They lay him flat, can't stand light or noise or smells. Just has ter lay in his bed in the dark 'til it goes away. 'N sometimes… sometimes he just blacks out and can't remember a thing when he wakes up again. But that don't happen very often. Just once 'r twice a year. This is the first one since he's been in Four Corners, ain't it Ez?"

Another week squeeze assured him that it was the first.

Clucking his tongue impatiently at never been told this vital piece of medical information, Nathan turned and started brewing up a tea. Hearing the warning growl from the tracker and remembering the conversation from the morning, he added a heaped spoon of honey to make it more palatable.

Ezra opened his eye at the growl and shifted nervously. Relaxing again as Vin whispered reassurances and ran his hand up and down the gambler's arm, he tried to focus the eye that didn't feel like exploding on Nathan who was approaching with a steaming mug. That never ended well for him.

"Now don't you be looking at me like that, Ezra. This here will make your pain go away some. Ya shoulda tole me about your problem so I'd know what to do if it happened. Ya scared all the boys and me spitless when ya just blacked out," scolded Nathan mildly, pouring some of the cold water in the jug beside the bed into his concoction to make it cool enough to drink. Holding it up for Ezra to sip, he chuckled at the surprise and then the shy smile that flitted across the southerner's pale face. "There, ya see, not so bad is it? Poor ole Buck had to hold your sorry self on his horse all the way back to town. Done wore hisself out, didn't ya Buck?"

Buck had heard the explanation for Ezra's state and seen that the gambler looked to be recovering, so had slid back down on the bed and returned to sleep. At Nathan's question, he stirred and turned over on the narrow bed with several thumps, groans and a loud, odoriferous offering, before starting to snore.

"Aw geez, Buck!"

Waving his hand in front of his face, JD raced for the window and opened it wide, hanging over the sill to escape. Nathan, Josiah and Chris were more stoic in their disgust, merely trying to breathe through their mouths until the stench dissipated, all of them used to Buck and his bodily expulsions. Vin buried his face in Ezra's hair and inhaled the clean smell of the hair oil that his brother used to tame his unruly curls. For his part, the gambler's face formed a perfect moue of distaste before the cup was held once again in front of his face and he inhaled it gratefully.

Still focused on Ezra, Nathan asked, "So these black outs, how long do they last?"

"No more 'n a day, but then he gets a monstrous headache after for days. Other times, most times, it's just the headache," replied Vin, gently rubbing circles on Ezra's stomach as it gurgled ominously at the intrusion of fluids.

"Anything else ya want to tell me, or is this it? No swamp fever or nuthin'?"

Innocent green eyes gazed up at him as the gambler shook his head. Nathan didn't believe them for a minute.

***Three days later in the saloon***

Josiah, Buck, Chris and Nathan looked up as a somewhat unsteady Ezra was led into the saloon by his faithful brother, Vin. JD was on patrol and they weren't expecting him back anytime soon as he'd mentioned stopping at the Wells ranch. When Ezra had been seated and Vin had slouched into the chair between Chris and Ezra, the gambler looked around at them in satisfaction at being back in his natural surroundings.

Pausing on Josiah, he studied the older man for a while before observing, "Josiah, you do not look to be in the prime of health."

The ex-preacher merely grunted before launching into a coughing fit that sounded horrendous.

"Good gawd, 'Siah. Check under the table, I think you may have expectorated one of your lungs," exclaimed the gambler, exchanging a dark knowing look with Nathan.

Josiah merely glared with watering eyes at first Ezra, then Nathan before stalking out of the saloon.

Raising the shot glass of whiskey that Buck had slid to him, Ezra announced, "To our health, gentlemen."


End file.
